“The engagement was broken, and the wedding was canceled. I did find an interesting tidbit: at the time of Cassie’s admission to Franklin, it was declared in the news that the Whitman family made a five-million-dollar contribution to the National Coalition Against Rape and Domestic Violence in Cassiopeia Ellis’s name. A secondary check showed it came from a personal account belonging to Garett Whitman.”
Ian coughed down the growing lump in his throat.Hush money.
“Soon after, Cassie moved to San Diego into the apartment of Christian Paulsen. During her time there, she created Tommy’s House. Between the seed money Ms. Modine invested and annual donations, Tommy’s House is solvent and will remain so. To find any direct involvement, I had to look directly at the 401(c) records. Her name appears nowhere on the prospectus or letterhead.”
The group took a pause. Tommy’s House was an anonymous haven for active-duty military and their families for counseling, emergency financial assistance, and excellent medical care—free of charge.
Kip “Acrobat” Brennan raised his hand. “Could her attack have to do with someone who has it out for the Paulsen sons?”
“Looking at the evidence, it appears doubtful—but until we know otherwise everything is on the table,” Kieran said, quieting the discussion.
Amy continued her report, detailing Cassie’s FBI career as well as her assignments working with Interpol. “Paul Yates is her bureau chief. His direct contact number is also included. Steve Naughton, her partner, landed this morning and went straight to the hospital.”
Tiki picked up the briefing, describing her finances and personal life. “No outstanding credit issues. Spending habits tame. She drives a Ford hybrid. Favors Friendship Heights for clothing. Her only spending you could call extravagant is on expensive shoes.”
Ian smiled at the memory from their dinner together.
“No romantic relationships. One close friend, Sophie Garland, an FBI analyst, still on assignment in London. Except for Sophie and the Paulsens, she leads a solitary life. So far, no links to Ames. A search of her recent emails and texts showed nothing unusual until Wednesday morning at 0318 when she emailed Lieutenant Junior Grade Caleb Paulsen.”
Hey Leb,
Welcome back. Hope you’re staying out of trouble. I bumped into the infamous LC at Dad’s. You never said he was eye candy. He must be an exceptional man. Knight heisted my gun and ID as a present. Don’t find that funny, bro. When you come home, you need to retrain him. The bigger news is he didn’t make me want to run. LOL. He wastrés gallant.
Anyway, since it’s late, you’ll figure out this isn’t just social. I’m in trouble and need to talk through some stuff. I had my first panic attack in years. On Monday, I was in Pages and smelled Clive Christian and clove cigarettes. I bugged out on Sophie.
The dreams are hitting hard again. I tried to talk to Dad, but you know how he gets. And forget Mom—she’ll just cry. You know what day Thursday is. Maybe it’s a combination of work wanting me to pull my Cassie Ellis persona out for a protection gig and a great meal with Ian.
I'm not that girl anymore. God, Leb, I don’t know. It was so easy to be with him. For a while, I was happy. He kissed me, and I wasn’t scared. I felt safe. For a brief moment, I wanted to move forward. And there it is. My heart says to try, and my brain won’t turn off.Soiled goods. Please, could you let him know it wasn’t him? It was to protect him. You know what to say. I feel like such a fool for wanting more.
As if it can’t get any worse, Ian knows my temporary boss. And from their vibe, neither man likes the other. Greg Wilds is harassing me to death. Bad choice of words, but I guess almost dying twice, I can joke about death. I wish it were just harassment. He showed up at the house last week, and—don’t tell anyone—he got physical. He saw the scars. Can you believe they saved me? Isn’t that a sick twist? They grossed him out. I was able to pull my gun.
What do I tell Dad? Wilds threatened my career. Then, I forgot to turn my phone off in a briefing. Ian called to ask me out, and Wilds answered my phone and recognized his voice. Wilds won’t even use my name—he calls me Princess. Damn him—anything but Princess. I lost my cool and decked him in front of my whole team. Not my brightest move. I hate this double standard. If I say something about the harassment, I’m a pariah. If I don’t, he wins. Argh! I’m so confused. I promise after this TA is done; I’ll do something about this.
I know Christian is in the middle of a hell week, and the other boys are out of town. Stephanie doesn’t have an extra slot until Monday. She’s in New York for a wedding. Yes, I called. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t bother you with this. You just got back, but I need to get it together. You would be mad if I didn’t say anything and something happened.
Call me when you get this, no matter the time. I’m not sleeping anyway. I’m sorry I’m rambling. I hate feeling so out of balance. I’m gonna try a run to see if it will help.
Love you,
Cass.
“Caleb didn’t return stateside until 1100 Wednesday morning. He didn’t open the email until after she was attacked,” Amy said.
“Find out who Stephanie is. Fill in those three missing months. I see the month and day she was transported to Franklin is the same month and day she was stabbed. Find out the date of the patron gala at the National Gallery from six years ago where they gave a tour of the Mellon 21. I need those details yesterday. Work with Brett about the 911 recording he found. I also need a deep background check on the Whitman family,” Ian ordered, making Amy jump.
Kieran praised Amy for her work, then opened a file on the plasma screen. “Ian, I need you to promise me you won’t shoot the messenger.” Ian’s face turned alert. “Martin and Julian were interrupted by two FEEBs at her place. Tate and I, uh, were able to gloss over the issues with Metro Police. Our guys did have the keys, but I suspect we’ll get another call from Andy Blake. And Wilds.”
“When were you going to let me know?” Ian glared.
“Now.” Kieran met Ian’s angry gaze.
Martin started the slide show. “Her place was trashed. Everything was destroyed except for the master bed. A message was written on the bathroom mirror in her lipstick.” He slowed the presentation for the bathroom mirror and master bed.
“The animal also left a personal gift.” He handed Ian the card in a protective envelope. “Once PD was gone, a team went in looking for footprints. She has marble in the bathrooms and natural stone tile in the kitchen—maybe we’ll get a hit. I asked tech to pull the surveillance tapes from the area from just before the stabbing until last night. It wasn’t just about the violent destruction of her home. It was a search. Julian and I found a hole in her closet.” Martin handed him the infant’s cap in a paper evidence bag. “This was stuck inside.”
Ian fingered it, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his breath stalled in his chest. He stood, looking like a cobra about to strike. “Damn it.”
He slapped the table with his open palm. The last slide was taken in front of Cassie’s fireplace, showing the destroyed bouquet of flowers and the torn picture of her with her family on the floor.
